


Cophine Aphorisms

by Molko_Niehaus



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family, Fluff, NSFW, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:16:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7651411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molko_Niehaus/pseuds/Molko_Niehaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An aphorism (from Greek ἀφορισμός aphorismos, "delimitation") is a terse saying, expressing a general truth, principle, or astute observation, and spoken or written in a laconic and memorable form.</p><p>It's just a small Cophine collection with various themes and plots. There will be love, sex, angst, drama, funny things and stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aphorism I: Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so, I'm sorry for the typos! Pleeeease leave kudos and comments, they make me happy and encourage me to writte more! Also take a look on my another cophine work: Tell Her That I'll Be Back. ;)

**I**

**Dreams**

 

_\- Oh, please, Cosima... Mon dieu!_

 

Then, with that moan, Cosima abruptly woke up. Sweating, heart racing, she put a hand upon her head and sighed. _Holy watershed_ , she thought.

 

She just had another sex dream with that gorgeous blonde-haired woman from the lab. _Delphine freaking Cormier_ , the new girl. _Put yourself together, you geek horny monkey_ , said to herself.

 

But she couldn’t.

 

Since two weeks ago, when Cosima met her new lab-partner who was transferred from Paris’ branch office of Dyad, she started to imagine how it would be being friend – or more thant that – of the French doctor. She was one of the smartest people Niehaus has ever seen in the whole San Francisco’s gay and straight world. She was gorgeous, and kind, and hot, and has a damn nice ass and…

 

She was a dream.

 

\- Oi! Geek monkey! Wake up already? – Said Sarah, her twin sister and roommate. Sarah was right, Cosima hardly ever woke up before the alarm clock, even before Felix wakes up tossing her a wet towel and yelling that she’s 20 minutes late.

 

\- Yeah, I don’t know why, maybe Jesus is coming back to earth, I think. – Cosima answered, voice still raspy, taking a sip of bed coffee in a Dyad’s mug (which one she has stolen four months ago).

 

\- Or maybe you just had another sex dream with that Frenchie, sweetheart! – Said Felix matter-of-factly, popping in the conversation. He walked through the twins at the kitchen island and got a glass cup, filling it with some ice tea.

 

\- Whaaaaat? – Sarah looked incredulously to the other brunette, bursted out laughing. – No way, dreadlocks! You’re looking like a bloody teenager!

 

Cosima huffed, blushing hard. – No, I’m not! – She snapped, facing Felix with a look that could sour milk. He stood still, smiling with that sass way so typical of him.

 

\- Yes, you are! – Sarah kept laughing. – God it’s Monday yet, don’t tell me that you’ve spent the whole weekend rubbing yourself thinking on her! You dyke!

 

\- Shut up you two! – Cosima hit the two british with her free hand. Felix and Sarah kept mocking her, even when she went out towards her bedroom to shower.

 

Of course she would never tell then, but they were (almost) right. Cosima has passed the whole weekend thinking how she could make the blonde notice her, and how beautiful she was when she was looking through the microscope, or drinking water, or writing protocols, or just doing nothing, or…

 

 _Gosh, Cosima, you’re a creepy stalker_ , she said to herself, splashing hot water at her face.

 

But how amazing would be having that slender backs pressed against the bathroom glass while Cosima worked hard on that specific point between Delphine’s legs, hearing that moan that she had heard earlier, and…

-x-

 

At the DYAD Institute, Cosima was too quiet writing some research protocols. – It was quite effective activity to help her forgetting a little about the dream and the new girl. But just _quite_ effective.

 

\- Bon jour, Cosima! – Cosima jumped of her chair when she heard _that_ accent bon jouring her. Some protocols fell of the balcony with Cosimas abrupt movement. Such a dork.

 

\- Oh, shit! – The brunette said, kneeling to get those stupid papers. – Oh, shit, I mean, sorry, I mean, Morning, Delphine!

 

 _Dork, dork, dork, dork!_ Her mind yelled.

 

\- Oh, Cosima, desolée! Did I scare you? – Said the blonde, kneeling too, trying to help the brunette. Barely knew Delphine that Cosima was ridiculously shaking below the counter.

 

\- Hey, thanks, that’s fine! – The brunette was almost spiting the words as fast she pronounced them. In seconds, they were again up their feet. The blond, with a few papers in hands, gave them to the another girl, who smiled awkwardly.

 

\- Thanks again. And you didn’t scared me, I was just, you know, concentrated on these stupid papers and you came and I’ve didn’t see you and, you know, but that’s totally fine. I mean, you didn’t scared me at all and –

 

\- Cosima, calm down! – Delphine giggled, tapping the brunette’s shoulder.

 

\- Oh shit, sorry… I’m doing that again. – She looked to the ground, suddenly shy, suddenly sad.

 

\- Doing what?

 

\- Babbling.

 

\- Oh, that’s fine, Cosima. – She said, turning around towards her office. – Actually, I think it’s cute! – And then she waved goodbye. – See you later! – She crossed the automatic glass door, disappearing between it.

 

Guess who will be dreaming about a lab, a few papers and a certain French blonde trying to help her.

 

\- Oh my god, it can’t be true. – Cosima sighed, returning to those protocols, but, this time, with a huge grin and cheeks blushed.

 

Yeah, you’re totally right.

 

Obvs.


	2. Aphorism II: Attempts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! There is TW!! Angst and something about miscarriage.
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed my work with kudos and comments! <3

II

 

Attempts

 

Delphine woke up with a strange noise of a crack, turning her body softly to the right side of the bed. She opened her eyes expecting to find the familiar sleepy face of her wife, but, instead, she faced the emptiness.

 

\- Cosima? – She muttered.

 

Then she opened her eyes wide and turned to the other side, looking for the damn clock at the nightstand. 3:07 AM. Her heart, for some mysterious reason, escaped a beat.

 

 _Something is wrong_ , suddenly popped in her mind.

 

\- Cosima? – She called, this time, looking around the room.

 

Nothing. Apparently, the whole house was dark.

 

\- Cosima? Chérie? – She called again, getting up from the mattress. Covering her body with a silk robe that was on the armchair, she walked aware through the small corridor. That’s when she saw a thin light coming from the kitchen, pacing right to there.

 

When she reached the kitchen, what she saw caused to her an unbearable pain. She covered her mouth with both hands, gasping.

 

It was Cosima, kneeling on the floor, bracing herself with broken glasses and puddles of water all around her. A cellphone lantern barely lighting up the place. She was sobbing, trembling hard – Delphine couldn’t even see her eyes well, but it was obvious that it was red and wet with fresh tears. The blonde thought for a second, running to the bedroom only to get a pair of flip-flops, stepping slowly through the glass, reaching the brunette. Then she kneeled with a sigh, cupping the girl’s face with both hands.

 

\- Cosima, mon amour, what’s wrong? – She whispered. – What happened? I’ve heard a strange noise and then I found you here an-

 

\- I can’t, Delphine, I can’t. – Cosima interrupted, her voice broken and shaky, tears falling free along her red cheeks.

 

Delphine didn’t needed to ask what she already knew. Actually, she knew that she herself couldn’t do it too. But, more than her, Cosima was way more unable.

 

\- Mon ange, mon amour. – She whispered, spreading kisses on the wet face, holding back her own tears. – It’s okay… Everything is going to be allright. I’m here. I’m with you. We are in this together, right? _Ne sois pas triste, mon amour… Je t’aime plus que le monde._

 

\- No, Delphine, it’s not going to! I told you that I wouldn’t make it! I told you that it was impossible! I told you, I told you! – She shouted, crying more as Delphine pulled gently her head to rest on the curve of her neck, reaching the brunette’s back in a tender embrace.

 

\- Shhh, mon amour. – She cooed. – We were trying, remember? It’s not your fault, Cosima. You’re healthy and doing everything that your physician asked you to. It’s not your fault, mon amour. It’s not your fault… - She repeated at Cosima’s ear, caressing her tiny and trembling body. Cosima stood in silence for sometime, only letting a few sobs escapes from her mouth as she cried. Delphine was about to convince Cosima to take her back to they bed when she heard some fragile whispers:

 

\- You know it’s my fault, Delphine… - She murmured, hiding her eyes shut on the blonde’s neck. – I know that it was only 12 weeks but… - The tears has broken her voice. Delphine stood caressing and cooing. – But… It was supposed to be our baby… Our tiny and beloved baby…

 

\- Mon amour, please… - Delphine began, but she was interrupted by the brunette’s hands grabbing her forearms.

\- As a scientist I know that’s not a thing that we should be surprised… There was a risk, but…. But.. – And then fresh tears came, falling free from the dark hazel eyes, which was locked with Delphine’s. – But I was starting to believe that it would be possible, you know? – Her voice was low, almost inaudible and fragile as sigh.

 

The blonde said nothing, instead, hugged her wife more tightly, breathing slow.

 

Everything was a mess. She knew that.

 

Cosima was a mess. Delphine was a mess.

 

Oh, how naïve they were… But how happy they were, also! Having a baby, making a family, wouldn’t that be lovely? More than that: Cosima asked to be the birth mother. She, herself. She wanted to. She needed to. She wanted to carry their child now that she was completely recovered from her illness. It was a miracle, actually. The two scientists not only has found the cure, but also treated Cosima’s womb to be able to conceive. They waited two years until the exams were stable to start the procedure – how happy they were! How naïve they were…

 

Everything went fine until two weeks ago, when the brunette started to feel some discomfort. Then in a matter of hours, what was just a discomfort became an unbearable pain… Everything was a complete blur, even for Delphine. She do remember Cosima crying in pain, and also remember driving desperately through the night to the hospital.

 

She remember Cosima’s blackout.

 

She remember the fear of losing her soulmate.

 

She remember the fear of losing their baby.

 

She remember the word.

 

Miscarriage.

 

Miscarriage.

 

Miscarriage.

 

“Mrs. Niehaus will be fine, she just need some rest.” – The Doctor’s voice echoed in her mind.

 

Before her wife woke up, the French woman cried hard at hospital’s bathroom. She fell on her knees and braced herself – but only that time. Because, after that, she already knew that she needed to be there for Cosima. She needed to hold on for her. For both. She has to be strong. She has to.

 

\- _Oh, mon bébé… Mon petit bébé… Mon Cosima…_ \- She muttered, a whimper escaping from her mouth as she looked at her reflection on bathroom’s mirror.

 

The sounds of the night brought her back to reality. There she was: holding her wife from a meltdown, in the middle of the kitchen with broken glasses and water and messy stuff. She sighed.

 

\- Cosima… - Delphine whispered, this time _her_ voice was shaky.

 

\- Delphine. – The brunette answered, her face still hiding on the blonde’s neck and shoulder.

 

\- We need to be strong.

 

\- I can’t do this, Delphine. – She shook her head.

 

\- We need to. – The French woman said, trying to be something close to the coldness. Just trying. – Come, let’s go back to the bed. At morning, I’ll clean this mess. Let’s go.

 

\- Delphine…

 

\- Shhh. – And then she drop off that mask of coldness. _It’s not right._ It was useless.

 

Cosima doesn’t need cold.

 

Cosima doesn’t need force or strength.

 

She needs love.

 

They both needed love.

 

\- Let me take care of you now, chérie… - She smiled in the dark, sadly, suddenly taking Cosima on her arms, holding her still. Although she wasn’t that strong, she do could take Cosima on her arms for a few meters until the bedroom. She needed to.

 

Cosima was too weak to complain, she just sighed and put her arms around Delphine’s neck, her tears still falling through her cheeks, still sobbing.

 

\- I’m so sorry...


	3. Aphorism III: Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. I actually have a thing for lesbian drama. <3

III

 

Calling

 

**_Buzzzz…_ **

****

**_Buzzzzz…_ **

_Cosima’s cellphone has been ringing, screaming for her, for some like fifteen minutes, but she only noticed that it was vibrating when it fell to the ground still buzzing (We must agree that Cosima’s phone should be studied by the CIA, because its capacity of surviving from tons of water and every disaster not-so-typical from an oblivious Cosima was quite impressive)._

_\- Oh, crap… - She cursed, looking upon the sofa’s back, her cellphone crawling on the ground awkwardly like that girl from The Exorcist._

_She put the joint still burning on the ashtray at the coffee table, grabbing the poor warrior a.k.a. her cellphone. When she read the name blinking on the screen, her heart stops for a second._

_God, why this is have to be so difficult?_

_\- Hello. – She answered, her voice low, almost a whisper._

**_\- Allô… Cosima?! Oh, cher – oh, pardon. Cosima, je..._ ** **_Je... I need to talk with you._ **

_\- What? Delphine, are you drunk?_

**_\- Non, non… Well, maybe a little…_ **

****

**_\- …_ **

****

**_\- Cosima…_ **

_Why, Delphine? Why the hell the way that Frenchwoman say her name still cause chills on her neck? Isn’t that obvious, Cosima?_

_It’s been three months that you both are apart, and still…_

_You miss her like it’s been a lifetime._

**_\- Cosima, mon Cosima… Tu me manques, mon bebé..._ **

_And then came the tears. Maybe the joint wasn’t strong enough to let her high enough to do not care about the blonde._

_But the truth was even with the joint of the world wouldn’t be enough to keep her mind away from that girl. From her girl._

_\- Delphine, please…_

**_\- Mon amour, please come back to me… I can’t live without you, I just can’t. Mon bebé, tu me manques… 5 minutes quoi…_ **

_\- What? Delphine? Sorry, I can’t understand you, this calling is terrible._

**_\- Cosima..._ ** _– She couldn’t understand the next words, because Delphine was speaking a very weird language that was actually something between French, English and sobs._

**_\- but Cosima, please come back to me…_ **

_Delphine, I miss you so much. She thought._

_Delphine, I can’t live without you too._

_Delphine, but you did this. Not me._

_Delphine, you’ve left me. You. Not me._

_Delphine, please don’t do that._

_Please don’t mess with my feelings._

_Because I miss you so much, baby._

_\- Delphine, I –_

 

BUZZZZ…

 

BUZZZ…

Cosima woke up in jump, grabbing her cellphone with an urgency as her life depends on that calling.

 

And it do depends.

 

She, herself, with purple circles on her eyes, hands trembling, smelling all alcohol and joint, looked at the phone’s screen, reading the name.

 

_Sarah is calling._

She left a whimper, and a sob.

 

\- FUCK! – And then she toss her cellphone against the wall.

 

This time, it breaks in a five big pieces, flying for all around her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE that will be fluff stuff on the next chapter. IT'S A PROMISE.


	4. Aphorism IV: Louder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should listen to Get Outta My Way - Kylie Minogue for this chapter. :) Have fun!

**IV**

**Louder**

 

She is dancing for me.

 

Oh my god. Oh my god she is totally dancing for me. I can see it. I can feel it in my bonés. Oh my god. The fucking sexiest girl at the whole party is right now dancing with her eyes completely focused on mine – there’s no doubt on it. Her hazel eyes are fixed at me like I’m gonna be her next meal. She licks and bites her bottom lip, she sways here and there with the graceful of an angel and the temptation of a demon. Oh my god, her hips are calling me to the dancefloor. She’s calling me with her smile.

 

Oh my god she’s so hot.

 

Oh my god I’m so drunk.

 

I grab the glass half-full of vodka and ice, gulping down some liquid hardly – it burns my throat, slowly setting a fire in my chest and guts.

 

\- Geez.

 

Wake up, geek monkey! She’s not looking at you, you neerdy. She’s way too much for you, actually. Besides, you’re here to get yourself drunk until forget your own lesbian drama with Shay. You’re here to forget about women and their stuff.

 

But I can’t forget her. That girl, dancing. She’s impossible to forget. Forgetting her would be a crime against humanity.

 

She’s tall. And blonde. And probably older than me. And probably straight as a line.

 

And hot as fuck.

 

I took one sip of my drink again, breathing deeply and slowly, focusing myself on the club’s bar, on the barman making drinks for every thirsty and drunk one that appears. Have focus, Cosima, focus on the barman, focus on your drink, focus on your fucking love dra –

 

\- Hi! – I heard the voice behind me and I swear that I’ve almost had a heart attack. The voice came to my ears kinda loud, over the noise of the club, but it still sweet somehow. I turned and now she’s smiling more than ever, a little drop of sweat on her forehead.

 

Oh my god.

 

\- Hey! – It was the best that I could say. Act cool, Cosima. Smile. Act cool and smile.

 

Oh my god she’s now on my left side, laying an elbow at the bar counter, towards me, her eyes shining wide as the lights of the dancefloor. I can’t do anything but stare at her breathtaking black dress, high heels and red lips. Such a fatale combination of Versace, Louboutin and Russian Red – if that dress is actually a Versace. Fuck it, she’s arousing me just being here and I can’t help myself but breath slow and control myself to do not grab her arm, pull her gently down and reach that delicious lips with mine.

 

\- Are you alright? – And then I realised that we were both in silence since my ridiculous “Hey”. Holly watershed, Cosima, can’t you be a normal person for 2 seconds without thinking on rough sex with that misterious girl? Can’t you just stop staring at that slender legs and imagining your head betwe-

 

\- Yes, yes, yes! – I repeated three times, giggling. Oh, nice, I’m a horny teenager right now. – I saw you dancing over there. –

 

Stupid.

 

– You’re very good. – Twice stupid.

 

She grinned.

 

I felt a throb. I’ve didn’t told where.

 

\- Oh, merci. – DID SHE JUST SAID MERCI? IS SHE FUCKING FRENCH? GOD PLEASE HOLD ME STILL I’M LOSING MY SH-

 

Cosima, stop!

 

STOP!

 

\- I would like to say the same about you, but I haven’t seen you dancing since the beginning of the party. – And then I realized that she was really into me at the whole time. And then I realized that I’m losing my shit again and Cosima it’s better to you act cool and stop being a dork and

 

GO DANCE WITH HER!!!!

 

\- Oh. Ahmmm, urrr...Thanks? – Stupid, stupid, stupid. – Actually I’m not the kinda –

 

_“What’s the worst thing that could happen to you?”_

 

\- Mon dieu, I love this song!! – Before I could even blink she grabbed my arm and pulled me to the middle of the crown, towards the dancefloor as soon she recognized playing on the speakers.- I love this american girl, Kylie Minogue! – She yells, still pulling me, and I’m still confused.

 

Did she really pulled me to dance?

 

Am I getting an alcoholic coma?

 

\- Actually Kylie Minogue is Australian and almost fift –

 

\- What?

 

I was about to repeat my whole nerdy textbook, but my mouth just fall open when she started to dance again – even sexier that she was before (and I’ve just thought that it would be impossible, but I was completely wrong).

 

\- Uhh... Urr... Nevermind. – I babbled, frozen in place while she sways her hips here and there, again, driving me mad, in front of me, facing me with a gorgeous smile, with breathtaking red lips, with... With...

 

\- Sorry, the music is too loud! – She said, leaning softly just enough to stay closer to my ear. – What did you say?

 

Please, Cosima, for the name of Darwin, don’t lose this oportunitty.

 

Please?

 

Please?

 

Breathing slowly – even with arousal and a tiny desperation – I took a step toward her, connecting our bodies, finding a place to my chin between her neck and shoulder, saying louder at her ear:

 

\- May I kiss you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little smut next chapter, maybe? Thank you guys for being supportive. :) Promise I won't take too long again.


	5. Aphorism V: Sailor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the following music/poem going through the aphorism, as you'll see, is a brazilian one. It calls "E eu que não sei quase nada do mar", by Ana Carolina and Maria Betânia. The link is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFfy4wyqgZE
> 
> This song inspired me for this chapter. Is very short, I know, but, for me, means a lot, and have some intensity. I tried some free translation, and I'm sorry about the typos, translation mistakes and stuff.
> 
> Hope you like it!

**V**

**Sailor**

 

 

"Garimpeira da beleza / te achei na beira de você me achar / me agarra pela cintura, me segura e jura que não vai soltar"

_"Gold miner of beauty / I've found you on the edge of you find me / take me by my waist, hold me and swear to me that you won't drop me"_

 

I was drifting, floating on the wild ocean of Cosima's curves, she was swallowing me as the ocean does when it meets earth. She was kissing my skin, destroying my rocks, my fortresses, upside-ing down every safe point of myself. She was my port and my brave sea, she was sweat and water - salt and sea.

 

I moaned.

 

I moaned and kept moaning as Cosima navigated with her teeth and fingers through my breasts, squeezing them, touching them, nipping, kissing. I could hear her smell, I could taste her smile. She was dominating me.

 

"E vem me bebendo toda / me deixando tonta de tanto prazer / navegando nos meus seios, mar partindo ao meio não vou esquecer"

_"And you come drinking all of me / letting me dizzy with so much pleasure / navigating on my breasts as the sea opens in a half, I won't forget it"_

 

And then her tongue, lazily bold as the calm sea, slipped around my neck, clavicles, brests, belly, leaving a burning trail of saliva, reaching my center of obliviousness. My hips were swaying back and forth, back and forth, against her torso nested between my legs, calling the storm, teasing the flow.

 

"Cosima... Please." - My plea, so soft as a sigh, was floating on the warm air. I was floating on the warm air.

 

"Tell me what you want." - She whispered, teasingly, as she spread kisses along my inner thigh. My hips were thrusting suggestively, my legs wide open for her.

 

"I want you, Cosima... So hard." - I rolled my eyes, almost convulsing in antecipation for pleasure, antecipating what was about to come.

 

And it did came. Cosima's lips has kissed my clit as the sea kisses the sand: softly, languidly, silently. But the impact of that movements inside my body was the complete opposite of that: it was like furious waves hitting the riffs. I've felt myself destroyed. Deliciously, completely, destroyed.

 

"Me agarrei em teus cabelos / tua boca quente pra não me afogar / tua língua, correnteza, lambe minhas pernas como faz o mar"

_"I braced myself in your hair / and in your hot mouth to do not drown / you tongue is the flow licking my legs as the sea does."_

 

And I, myself, who knows nothing about the ocean, was suddenly navigating through the bravest waters of Cosima's desire. She was my mermaid, drowning my senses with her magic lips. Kissing me to death. Me, oh, poor and unprepared sailor, letting myself flow with her languids strokes, wet and salty kisses, as the mermaids, as the sea.


	6. Aphorism VI: Plain Gold Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS, this Aphorism is kinda bigger than the others, and also more elaborated. Actually, it's something like a plot test. I'm thinking about expanding it in another fanfiction - what do you think? Let me know if you want more of this universe, okay? I hope you guys enjoy it. <3
> 
> As you can see, this aphorism was inspired by a Nina Simone's song also called Plain Gold Ring - Kimbra did a FUCKING AMAZING cover of this song. I suggest you guys to pick one and hear it while you read. :) 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxScsmeWsJQ (Plain Gold Ring, by Nina Simone)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6i1mr9amqeg (Plain Gold Ring, by Kimbra)
> 
> VERY IMPORTANT: I do not live in EUA or France, i just study a little bit about these countries and their history, I'm sorry about any eventual mistake. And I do not support any kind of racism.
> 
> English is not my first language!

**VI**

 

**PLAIN GOLD RING**

 

Paris, 1958.

Friday night.

 

 _Plain gold ring on his finger he wore_  
_It was where everyone could see_  
_He belonged to someone, but not me_  
_On his hand was a plain gold band_

 

Let me tell you something. There is a corner hidden between Paris’ coffee shops that is a really really good place to hear some American music. Yeah, American music! Trust me, its really good.

 

The New Houses, they call. It’s a small band that plays in an old café shop (people say the owner was about to lose the place when he had this insight of playing jazz music and offering beer to the ex-soldiers from America that tried to start a pretty new life in France after the war), and has a good drummer, Scott, and a pianist, Felix, to improvise some fuzzy jazz. And the singer, obviously.

 

She was a white gal, the perfect one: olive skin with a black woman voice. Maybe things were burning in EUA with Martin Luther King and stuff, but at least here in Europe, those americans still prefer a white singer. Don’t let yourself get misunderstood by her Italian name: Cosima is a typical girl from the small San Fran, but with an Atlantic City accent. Nobody knows precisely how she ended up singing at a small café in Paris, but they liked her.

 

They liked her because she sings pain like no one else.

 

She has that sadness on her eyes, man. Those thick eyeliners, deep red cocktail dress, and a fancy bun at the top of her head gave her all the sad beauty that she needed. She was a small brunette with high heels, whispering soft words at the microphone. Every Friday, the New Houses’ night, the café was crowded. Crowded with ex-american soldiers and, too, some rich men that enjoyed that exquisite music with their wives. And lonely sorrows, and sad young guys. Apparently, those fridays nights, and Cosima’s voice, were capable of reunite people from different economic conditions in one single place just to hear some good music.

 

And oh, how she sang.

 

The people used to ask who is or was the guy who has broken her heart, or maybe she misses America too much, but no one knew. No one knew from where she took that sadness in her voice.

 

No one except herself.

 

 _Plain gold ring has a story to tell_  
_It was one that I knew too well_  
_In my heart it will never be spring_  
_Long as he wears a plain gold ring_  
_Oh, oh_

* * *

 

 

\- Oh, Cosima, come on, darling. They are calling for you! – Felix called, outside Cosima’s dressing-room, knocking more three times.

 

\- _Leave me alone! The night is over!_ – She yelled, voice cracked, choky by the wooden door. The guy could clearly hear her sobs, his heart sinking on his chest. He pleaded. – Cosima… Please! Why are you suddenly so sad? What happened at the stage?

 

\- _It doesn’t matter! Go away! Tell Mr. François I’m not feeling well._ – And the sobs came again. Felix noticed, by the small frame by the end of the door that the dressing room’s lights were off. She, again, was crying in the darkness. “This is ridiculous”, he thought.

 

With a sigh, he gave up.

 

\- Okay, Cos. You do what you want. Just… Just… Don’t do it again, ok? We still need the people’s sympathy to keep playing in here and pay our bills. – And he went away. She said nothing.

 

Inside the room, Cosima was resting her forehead against the comber. Her fists remained closed in white balls, pinning at the mirror. Below her eyes shut, black water puddles – tears and diluted eyeliner. Her whole body was trembling hard.

 

Oh, how miserable she felt.

 

How stupid.

 

\- I’m… So… Stupid. – She muttered, between sobs.

 

Yes, Cosima, you were so stupid.

 

Seeing that tall old man guiding Delphine – oh, the gorgeous, mysterious woman in a black dress, femme fatale and sweet-baby-girl Delphine - through the crowd to somewhere you couldn’t see them. You saw a small glimpse on those hazel eyes. She was smiling… She was smiling to him. She was smiling so softly, so lovely, to _him_. You knew what was about to happen after. She knew. Oh, how you knew.

 

Before the couple disappear completely of the show, their eyes met.

 

Thanks god they faced each other at the drum solo – if she were singing, for sure her voice would break.

 

Delphine looked at her. Deep in her soul. Just for a second. Oh, how deeply.

 

Cosima held a breath.

 

She invaded the small brunette so easily and so abruptly that she felt her knees weak.

 

Then she broke contact, following her husband.

 

Cold.

 

She looked at Cosima coldly.

 

So cold.

 

How could Delphine be so cold?

 

How could she pretend everything so well? How can she feel everything and, at the same time, feel nothing?

 

But when the piano gave her those fast and strong chords, calling her to reality, she breathed again. She blinked twice and then, there was the crowd, the guys, the girls… Everyone, looking hypnotized at her. She was singing again.

 

Suffering for Delphine again.

 

But no one knew that. No one.

 

Even Delphine.

 

And that’s how she ended up here, crying alone in her dressing room. With no clue of where the Frenchwoman was, or how will she end up the night.

 

Oh, how miserable.

 

\- So stupid… So stupid… - She repeated. Again and again.

 

 _When nighttime comes a' callin' on me_  
_I know why I will never be free_  
_I can't stop these teardrops of mine_  
_I'm gonna love him till the end of time_

 

* * *

 

Paris, 1958. One week before.

Friday night – Saturday dawn.

 

Cosima was melting in those skilled hands. Moaning, whimpering.

 

\- Delphine, Delphine… - She called, desperately. The Frenchwoman was kissing her clavicles and going south, brushing her fingertips on the curve of Cosima’s breasts, up and down, up and down. They were all sweat, all flush and heat. The soft breeze of the night were not enough to cool those boiling bodies.

 

The blonde, finally with those beautiful curls loose and falling from her shoulders, smiled, facing the brunette with hunger eyes.

 

\- Oui, mon amour? – She whispered, her hands still snaking through that olive skin, toned body.

 

And then the American singer was trembling again. Words stuck in her throat.

 

It was so difficult to her say something, ask actually, to that woman. Everything was too difficult. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Cosima was – always – full of herself, always confident, always with sharp words and answers even in French. She could have any man she wanted, any woman indeed. At least half of the bohemian population in Paris adored her, and even though…

 

Even though…

 

She was there, stuck with own words, naked, trembling in anticipation, with that Frenchwoman nested between her legs and scratching her limbs.

 

\- Tell me what you want, mon amour… - Encouraged the blonde.

 

They spent some seconds just facing each other. And in that precise moment Cosima realized, again, that she was so madly, deeply, uncontrollably, in love with that woman.

 

Cosima loved Delphine with all her soul. With all her heart. She loved Delphine beyond those Friday nights when the French woman come to her place and made love to her until the first rays of sun appears through the window. She loved Delphine beyond her moans, beyond her pleasure prays, beyond her body. Beyond everything.

 

Beyond of Delphine’s marriage.

 

And that’s why she couldn’t live like that anymore. No, she couldn’t.

 

She could not bear the fact that Delphine wasn’t hers. and will never be.

 

She was married with Dr. Leekie – a business man rich as fuck that actually give some money to them every night. Apparently he was a Canadian friend of americans and English governors and somehow has settled down in Paris. Fuck it about Dr. Leekie. Cosima loved his wife.

 

His wife, Delphine, who she met in one of those crowded nights. When Dr. Leekie came to greet the New Houses and stuff.

 

When he said her name, she knew, oh how she knew… She was completely lost on those hazel eyes.

 

\- Cosima? – The sweet voice called her back to reality, and the brunette blinked twice. Delphine was covering her body with her own, spreading ghost of kisses on Cosima’s jaw.

 

\- Delphine… - The singer whispered, still trembling, still aching in arousal and pain. She felt her eyes watering when she looked at Delphine’s, full of concern and tenderness.

 

_No, don’t look at me that way._

_No._

_Oh, god, please, no._

And then Delphine did the most unbearable, painful and equally lovely gesture:

 

She cupped Cosima’s cheek with her left hand. And then the brunette felt the cold metal against her skin. The ring.

 

The plain gold ring.

 

The crudest proof of Delphine’s statement of not belonging to Cosima.

 

It felt like the Frenchwoman, paradoxically, was burning her with the cold iron. Oh, how it hurts.

 

With tears already falling freely, the singer turned her head away from that touch and that hand. Delphine frowned.

 

\- What is happening, Cosima? Why are y-

 

\- Please, Delphine, take this off. – Said the brunette, voice breaking, resting one side of her face on the pillow, facing the bedroom’s wall.

 

\- Quoi? What are you talking about? – The french said, truly confused, but still trying to call the smaller woman’s attention with hands and kisses.

 

Cosima rolled her eyes, grinning sadly, trying hard to control her own sobs.

 

Ah…

 

She was too tired.

 

Too tired of pretending everything.

 

That she didn’t knew Delphine, that she was in love with a guy, that she was singing for anyone but her. She was too tired of being just a whore on her own bed, begging for some attention, begging for some kisses every single friday – when the french came calling her, whispering love french obscenities against her ear, lying to her husband and disappearing in the night just to find Cosima’s house, Cosima’s bedroom and Cosima laid on her mattress naked and ready to her. She was tired of looking at the fucking gold ring every night, remembering her that everything was a beautiful and french lie. Too tired, too tired.

 

\- The ring, Delphine. Your ring.

 

 _Plain gold ring has but one thing to say_  
_I'll remember till my dying day_  
_In my heart it will never be spring_  
_Long as he wears a plain gold ring_

 

* * *

 

 

Paris, 1958.

Saturday morning.

 

And there she was, drunk on her own bedroom. Alone. On the previous night, after almost breaking her own mirror at the dressing-room, Felix and Scott escorted her until her house to let her there on the small bedroom. Unfortunately, Cosima has always kept a bottle of whiskey hided in her wardrobe.

 

And then everything started again.  

 

Of course Delphine didn’t came. Of course she spent the whole night crying and crying against her pillow, remembering drunk memories of them together, remembering their nights, and their fast and precious mornings. Of course. She asked for that. She blamed herself for that.

 

If she could just pretend that everything was right... If she could just pretend and let Delphine fuck her all night long, hovering, spreading, whispering love and luxury.

 

She could just pretend she was hers.

 

If only she could forget the ring.

 

That plain gold ring.

 

 _Plain gold ring on his finger he wore,_  
_Plain gold ring on his finger he wore,_  
_Plain gold ring on his finger he wore…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want more? Let me know it! <3 See you next chapter.


	7. Aphorism VII: Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously thinking about changing the name of this fanfiction to Cophine (angst) Aphorisms. But I can't control myself, I trully have a thing for drama. But I promisse that I'll writte something lighter, and fluffier [?]
> 
> Thank you guys for leaving comments and kudos, they really inspire me. :)
> 
> Soundtrack suggestion: Please, please, please, let me get what I want - The Smiths https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiqOsKngc-c

**VII**

 

**Letters**

 

_My Dearest Cosima,_

 

_I wish I could have warned you. Oh, how wished to. I wished so hard that you could understand behind my words what was going to happen. I knew, soon or later, they would catch me, find me... Kill me. I knew it right at the moment that Dr. Nealon threatened me. And even though I've ran into you. I wanted to kiss you one more time. If it was supposed to be the last time I would saw you, I wanted to make it right. I needed you to know how I loved you with all my soul, all my strength and heart, that this whole time I was trying to protect you and your sisters, but specially you, my love._

 

_I loved you so much._

 

_I love you so much._

 

_I wonder if you are safe, and well. I hope you are. Things are getting even more dangerous - they saved me as well, but they didn't made it from good faith. They apparently need me. I can't tell you who they are - not yet._

 

_Please, my love, be safe. I'm still trying to find a cure while I'm stuck here._

 

_I miss you so much. I miss you, I miss you._

 

_Je suis la tienne,_

 

_Delphine._

 

Delphine signed the letter, sighing heavy, and then hidden it between a random page's book. Les Miserables, it was. She rolled her eyes right after reading that title again. How obvious, she thought. French literature for a French Doctor. How cliché. But at least she could pretend that this Victor Hugo's best seller was her favorite book, keeping it always below her arms or upon the nightstand. It was useful, though.

 

Every night, she read not a new chapter, but the same old few letters that she kept writing to her Cosima. Is she still hers? Delphine wonders. She doesn't know, but still...

 

Mon amour... - She muttered to the thin yurt's walls.

 

Nothing's changed. She still loves Cosima. That's why she keeps writing those letters. She know she can't send them, but still...

 

She can fantasize about Cosima's reaction about these. Will she be surprised? Knowing that Delphine is alive? Will she look for her? Is she looking for her?

 

So many questions, so few answers...

 

In her dreams, Cosima still loves her. Still want her. Here and there she dreams of her cheeky girl kissing her lips again, tasting her again, embracing her, making love to her...

 

She can almost hear the tiny and raspy voice whispering little promises at her ear, and also dirty things, and deep fears, and foolish plans, and...

 

She sighs.

 

Oh, how she misses her.

 

It's aching, deep in her chest, actually.

 

She can feel it in her bones, deep in her almost closed wound, even.

 

Oh, how she misses her.

 

Mon bebé... - and there she is, sobbing silently, alone with a potential enemy, with no clue of how her soulmate is.

 

Oh, how she misses her.

 

Oh, how much she misses her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _D_ _elphine,_

 

 _~~Where are you?~~ _

 

 _~~I can't believe that you're dead. You're not dead.~~ _ ~~~~

_I miss you. I just miss you so much._

 

_I've been looking for you everywhere. ~~Sometimes I feel stupid for doing it because your blood was there. A thick puddle of bl~~ Even when people say to me to give up on looking and focus on my illness, I can't rest. I can't rest untill I find you. ~~I can't eat, I can't sleep, I hardly breath witho~~ I will find you._

 

_~~Please come back~~ _

 

_~~Where the hell are you?~~ _

 

_~~Please come back and forgive me for being such an idiot~~ _

 

_~~Please I just ca~~ _

 

_I love you._

 

_Cosima._

 

Cosima ripped the letter furiously, feeling suddenly stupid. It was useless, writing a letter to no one? Foolishness. Just waste of time.

 

But even though, she was sobbing hard. Her knuckles were white upon the table, small pieces of paper between her trembling fingers.

 

It was all her fault.

 

She should have trusted Delphine since the beginning. Stopped being too selfish and listened the words behind Delphine's words. But she was so angry, and hurt, and heartbroken, and...

 

Bullshit.

 

There's no time for excuses.

 

Delphine is gone.

 

Everything she had is gone.

 

Her love.

 

Her health.

 

Her will to live.

 

Everything is gone.

 

The only thing that remained it's these stupid letters. And her hollow tears.

 

Oh how she cried.

 

Shit, Delphine... - She muttered, laying flat her forehead against the table, her hands tangled at her dreads.

 

* * *

 

 

_My beloved Cosima,_

 

_Last night I've dreamed about you. In this dream, you were here in this bed, covered in my duvets, right on my side, wrapped around my arms. And you were trembling so hard, my love. You were shaking, hypothermic and your breath was too weak. I was so afraid of losing you. I can fell that, still._

 

_You whispered to me some words that I couldn't quite understand, but I stood still, holding you tight against me. I remember saying "Keep breathing" a thousand times. Oh, my love, how afraid I was. I woke up calling for you, tears falling free from my eyes._

 

_I don't want to lose you. Please, my love, be safe, take care of yourself untill I find you again. And when it happens, ma chérie, I'll take care of you._

 

_Je t'aime._

 

_Je suis la tienne,_

_Delphine._

 

Delphine closed the book and wrapped it around her arms against her chest, in an attempt to embrace the book as she used to embrace Cosima, like it could be possible somehow. She sighed, fighting internally to do not lose control again. She cannot. Not crying anymore. No tears from now.

 

The pain pulsates deeply in her chest. Untill when will she write letters to no one?

 

She hidden the book below her pillow. Standing off the bed reaching her small desk, she grabbed her notebook.

 

Facing the leather cover of the book, she sighs again, eyes narrowed.

 

She will find a cure.

 

She will find Cosima.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je suis la tienne: I'm yours.


	8. Aphorism VIII: Bliss / Attempts 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! Sorry for taking too long to give you a new aphorism. I'm without my PC right now and it sucks. :(
> 
> Thank you for the AMAZING comments and kudos! It's sooo good when you tell me what you think <3
> 
> This one is just a small and fluffy thing that I've started writting on my phone, at first I thought I should complete it, but rn I think its better the way it is.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> p.s.: English is not my first language, sorry about any typos.

**VIII**

 

**Bliss / Attempts 2**

 

When I woke up, Cosima was already sleeping, her back flat against the mattress and hands protectivelly wrapped around the tiny body nested upon her stomach, while a tiny head was resting at the sweel of one bare breast and tiny hands carressing unconsciously her ribs. The bigger and smaller one breathing at the same time.

 

It was one of those moments of feeling blessed.

 

I don't know when it started, but suddenly Silke wasn't able anymore of sleeping well after feeding without spending at least a few minutes napping upon Cosima's heartbeat - And we've never thought that this habit of her were something to be avoided. So there she was: breathing heavily and salivating against my wife's bare skin.

 

Cosima usually stays awake and after some time she takes our daughter to her crib, but tonight we both were extremely exhausted, and before we could even think about changing clothes or doing something while Silke's sleep... We passed out.

 

But there I was, fully rewarded with that scene. My two babies, _mes deux amours_ , sleeping peacefully together.

 

And I thought it would never be possible...

 

I thought I would never be able to see Cosima happy and excited again as she was at our first attempt. I thought we wouldn't make it...

 

But we did.

 

There she was. Cosima. Happy and healty. Alive.

 

And so was Silke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, isn't it?
> 
> Tell me what you think. <3


	9. Aphorism IX: Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS! This is another PLOT TEST! 
> 
> It's been some months that I've been thinking about a The 100 & Orphan Black crossover. I have the development of the plot almost complete in my head (yes!), but first I wish you guys could tell me what you think about Clarke, Lexa, Cosima (as a cheeky grounder) and Delphine (as our eccentric beloved doctor) messing around together ahahah (YES, that'll be DEFINITELY Clexa AND Cophine stuff).
> 
> If it works, I will probably start posting the chapters at the second half of january (English is not my first language so I usually spent a little eternity to write everything the closer as possible from correct).
> 
> I am sorry about any typos!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy. :)

**E N G L I S H**

**T R I G E D A S L E N G**

 

**N O W**

**N A U**

 

\- I’m gonna need blood pressure, core temperature, please. – Demanded Delphine, using a knife to rip off the girl’s blouse, leaving her only on her undergarments. Around the doctor, a small group of people with some medic habilities, trained by herself. She didn’t took her eyes of the asleep girl, trusting on those hands appearing and touching and helping her to help.

 

Someone put the ordinary thermometer below Cosima’s arm, then another pair of hands wrapped her forearm with a tissue of a ordinary pressure regulator, pumping regularly the small rubber ball connected by a tube to fill the material with air, squeezing her muscles.

 

In a few seconds she heard others voices: numbers, diagnostics, information. She nods at them. It’s easy to find out – it was practically obvious.

 

\- She is hipotermic. – Delphine said, in a low voice as fast words left her mouth. She cradles gently the small pale face, withdrawing the brunette’s thick broken glasses. – Look at me. – And then she blinked a flashlight against Cosima’s eyes once, twice. – Okay. Please leave us. Thank you. – She demanded again, still without looking at her team. She knows there must be some frowned faces and shifted expressions – _it’s a grounder, after all_ – but she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t have time to.

 

\- Call Clarke, please. – She says to the last boy remained at the tent. He nods simply and goes away, all of them leaving fast and silently.

 

Cosima was trembling and breathing weakly, she can’t remember the precise moment when she laid down on that bed. But still…

 

When she saw those light hazel eyes, her heart escaped a bet. It was her.

 

Delphine, herself.

 

Delphine kom Skai Kru.

 

Her Delphine.

 

**B E F O R E – O N E**

**F O U – W O N**

 

_Why am I here? Why did I accepted to come to the ground?_

_“you have nothing to lose”, he said. And he was right._

_I had nothing to lose. Since maman’s death I was walking fateless through the Ark. I was one of those creatures that maman told me once in her stories – a ghost. Floatting with pale limbs and hollow eyes, stuck dead between those who still lives. I’ve passed away with her._

_Counselor Griffin told me I was useful – I was the most talented medicine student of the Ark. But what makes me usefull, or good, if I couldn’t save even my mother’s life? So I gave up my studies. I gave everything up. I think I’ve had a little hope in this mission to reach the ground went completely wrong and ends in a collective suicidal._

_And then, I accepted to come. With those kids. What should I do? Protect them? Save them? But how?_

_“You can be useful.”, they said._

_No, I can’t. I’m just a ghost._

_They don’t see me, they even know my name, and I don’t make a single effort to make them notice me. It doesn’t matter._

_I remember of seeing them being rebel, almost savages. I stood silent watching them coldly. I wonder when I’ve got so good at staying calm in a place that I barely know where to step or if it’ll be anything to eat tomorrow._

_It’s funny how sometimes you simply stop caring about yourself._

_I saw them breathing the new air as I breathed it too. I said nothing when they took off my bracelet – I’ve didn’t winced even. I’ve spent my whole days watching and following some stupid orders. Thinking everything about nothing._

_I was a ghost._

_The first time they noticed me was when they arrested that grounder. When he finally helped Octavia with that damn antidote. I watched everything from a corner._

_Clarke, Bellamy and the others went out of the spaceship, remaining only me, Octavia and the grounder. They did not saw me._

_She was trying to clean his wounds. He had a deep burn on his chest. Turns out that wound could be potentially dangerous._

_I knew it was dangerous._

_I knew how to save him._

_But I was a ghost, wasn’t I?_

_I’ve almost forgot how it feels, being a doctor. A healer. I was about to forget those impulses of saving someone. Almost._

_She was trembling hard, brushing so, so softly a wet tissue against his wounds. He didn’t whined, but I knew he was in pain._

_\- You should look for some cold water. Fresh, at least._

_\- What? – She jumped, turning abruptly towards my voice. I was leaned against a metal beam, arms crossed. I think people would see it as some kind of disdain, but it wasn’t. It was just me. Hollow._

_\- Fresh water, only. And keep the wound bandaged for at least 48 hours. Do not try to pop the blisters. – I said a little harshly, trying to hide my stranger accent. – And clean his cuts. I don’t think he needs sutures._

_\- Who are you? – She narrowed her eyes, fists clenched. – I don’t remember you from the Ark._

_Of course she wouldn’t remember. That was the girl who spent sixteen plus years inside a hole, while I was the girl who spent twenty plus years inside a infirmary wing._

_\- I’m Delphine. I used to work at Abby’s._

_She frowned. I stood emotionless._

_\- So you’re a doctor. – It wasn’t a question._

_\- No._

* * *

 

_It didn’t took too long to them notice me. Octavia told Bellamy who told Clarke who told me that I could be useful. That I could use my knowledge to help our people._

_\- I don’t remember too much of you, Delphine, but it seems like my mother trusted you to come and die with us. - Clarke said, I noticed some bitterness on her tone. Of course she could not remember of me, too. But I do remember of her. I’ve watched her birth when I was thirteen._

_\- So I think you’ll help us, won’t you? You are a true doctor._

_I didn’t agreed with her. But also didn’t disagreed._

_\- Seems like I don’t have much choice, have I? - I said, smiling weakly._

_\- Fine._

_\- D’accord._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think?
> 
> And yes, Delphine is a sky people and yes, she has her usual (and oh so lovely) accent. I'll explain why later. <3


End file.
